


Shadow Demons and Undead Wives, Oh My!

by E_Salvatore



Series: Of Angels, Demons, and Everything in Between [1]
Category: Tanis (Podcast), The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: AU, Cat!Amalia, Demon!Strand - Freeform, F/M, Gen, Whitelighter!Coralee, Witch!Alex, giftsfortallpaul, with bonus Potions Master!Nic and Reluctant Witch!MK
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 11:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6655711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/E_Salvatore/pseuds/E_Salvatore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And now, the Charmed AU no one asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadow Demons and Undead Wives, Oh My!

**Author's Note:**

> If you’re unfamiliar with Charmed, need a refresher or would like to have some idea of what’s going on before you dive into this monster, [here's a cheat sheet.](http://esalvatore3.tumblr.com/post/143328929469/something-wicca-this-way-comes-cheat-sheet)

“I thought I told you to stay in the car!” Alex’s voice carries down the alley, a frustrated reminder as she quickly hurls bags of garbage at their opponent to keep him distracted while Nic makes a run for her.

When a stray fireball comes close enough to leave scorch marks on the left shoulder of Nic’s coat, she wonders if throwing an entire dumpster at the demon might be overkill.

“And I told you to keep the potion in your pocket!” Nic retorts as he ducks behind her just in time to avoid another fireball. “Come _on_ , Alex. Why do you even let them see it? You know that’s the first thing they go for.”

“Nic,” Alex rolls her eyes as she aims an abandoned futon at the demon, buying her just enough time to turn around and hold out her hand expectantly. “Potion first, lecture later.”

“You’re lucky I always carry a spare,” He mutters, producing a vial from the inner pocket of his coat.

Alex grabs him by his sleeve and drags him to the side, pulling him behind the dumpster as the demon pushes the futon out of his way and stalks toward them. “Only because you always make too much. It’s like Thanksgiving all over again. We had leftovers for an entire _week_. Even _Amalia_ was sick of-”

“Alex!” Nic squeaks as the demon get too close for comfort. “Can we do this later?”

“Oh. Right.” She uncorks the vial and holds her breath as the demon gets closer… closer… _there_ , close enough for her to hit him and far enough for Nic to stay hidden.

Wordlessly, Alex springs to her feet and hurls the vial at the demon’s feet. The glass shatters upon impact, and the liquid within begins to vaporize. Heavy, thick plumes of smoke rise to envelope the demon’s form.

The demon drops his human façade and allows his features to melt into his true form, but it’s too late. Alex watches, wide-eyed, as the creature’s grey skin begins to bubble, boils forming on his face as terror fills his eyes.

They always look so scared, so _human_ , in that last minute when they realize what’s coming for them, when they feel the same fear their victims must have experienced.

At least this one goes quietly, choking down the anguished cry most of his kind usually yell out in their last seconds. She’d rather not have to deal with curious bystanders coming to investigate the sound.

“You okay?” Nic asks, startling her with a hand on her shoulder.

“What?” Alex flinches, finally taking her eyes off the spot the demon had stood in just thirty seconds ago. All that’s left is a small pile of shattered glass; the burn marks blend into the asphalt, leaving this alley unmarked. “Yeah, I’m fine. We should go; this place is starting to stink.” She feels sorry for whoever’s in charge of cleaning up the mess she’s made, eyeing the dozens of torn black bags and the garbage straining to escape through the rips in the plastic.

It isn’t until she turns to lead Nic away that her adrenaline rush starts to wear off, making room for her mind to register the burning pain in her right leg.

“Alex!” Nic hurries forward when she cries out in pain, and quickly slings her arm over his shoulder to support her weight. “What happened? And _don’t_ lie.”

“Fireball,” She reluctantly bites out. “On my thigh.”

Nic slowly guides her back to the car. “Call Cora. _Now_.”

“No way,” Alex says. “It’s broad daylight and this is a busy street. We’re already lucky no one saw us with the demon. Look,” She adds before Nic can form an argument, “the shop is five minutes away. Just get me to the car, out of the car and into the shop, and I’ll call her then.”

“You’re not going to check on the Innocent?” He asks, helping her into the car. Alex glares at him when he makes to help her with her seatbelt, and Nic backs off with both hands held up and a sheepish smile.

“We haven’t meet Charlie even once. She probably has no idea what’s been going on. I say we let her go on with her life without ever knowing that a demon was planning to kill her.” Alex clicks her belt into place as Nic slides into the driver’s seat next to her.

“Good idea,” Nic shrugs as they drive away from the alley. He’ll breathe easier once they’ve put as much distance between them and that alley as possible. And once Alex has had her leg healed, of course.

“Hey, Nic?” Alex speaks up a few minutes later.

“Hmm?” They’ve arrived at the shop, and the familiarity of it helps ease any remaining anxiety and banish the image of the demon going up in flames – or smoke, in this case – from his mind.

“Thanks for always having my back,” Alex smiles, one of those bright, warm smiles that have become all too rare these days. She used to smile like that every day, before his parents died and her mother moved away and she had to quit a highly-coveted internship position to focus on demon-hunting instead.

“Well, it’s not like I have a choice,” Nic says teasingly as he kills the engine. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m running dangerously low on family. And you seem pretty intent on putting yourself in danger.”

Alex crosses her arms when Nic rushes to her side and opens the door for her. “You make it sound like I _choose_ to do this on a daily basis,” She huffs as Nic helps her out of the car and into the shop. Amalia pops up from behind the counter while Nic unlocks the door, and she’s there to meet them when they get in, curling her tail around the ankle of Alex’s injured leg. Her intelligent, human eyes grow wide with concern when she senses something amiss, and Alex braves a wave of pain as she bends down to pick Amalia up.

“It’s okay,” She assures her familiar, cradling the cat to her chest. “I’m okay.”

“I’m fine too, thanks for asking,” Nic says. Amalia playfully swipes at him when he passes them, coaxing a laugh from her tired friends. “Call Cora, Alex. You promised.” He disappears into the back, presumably to check on the potions he must’ve left brewing while they were out.

“Fine,” Alex sighs, bracing herself for a lecture. She doesn’t know much about her Whitelighter’s past life, but she’s convinced Cora must have been a mother, given the way she can go on and on with a stern voice, worried eyes and an overall air of disappointment and disapproval whenever Alex or Nic get themselves hurt.

“Cora?” She ventures further into the store and sets Amalia down on the counter. “Cora, do you have a minute?”

A familiar chime precedes the lightshow that heralds Cora’s arrival, and the woman herself steps out from the dark corner she’s unofficially claimed as her designated orb spot.

“Of _course_ I have a minute for- what is _that_?” She zeroes in on the barely-visible scorch on Alex’s jeans. “Let me have a look at that,” Cora sighs, beckoning Alex to her corner. It’s hidden from sight, so they won’t have to worry about passers-by glancing at the store and questioning the white light radiating from Cora’s hands as she heals Alex’s leg.

Alex bites back a wince as she makes her way to Cora; it’s nothing but a burn, yet its unholy source causes a significant amount of pain. Getting burned by hellfire isn’t really something you can develop a tolerance for after the first few times.

“Mind filling me in?” Cora asks as she fusses over Alex and helps her sit down on the floor. She gets to work on the wound as she speaks, her palms hovering an inch above the scorch mark.

“Not much to tell,” Alex mumbles, closing her eyes as the soothing warmth of Cora’s powers washes through her aching body. “MK saw a demon terrorizing an Innocent outside her office after work, identified the girl and tracked down the building’s location. Nic and I set up camp across the street until the demon showed up, then we did our thing and vanquished him before he could make it to the building. We didn’t even get to meet the Innocent this time.”

“I wonder why she was targeted in the first place,” Nic says, appearing from the back with a tray of carefully lined-up vials. “Hi, Cora.”

“Hello, Nic,” Cora returns. “Does this girl have a name? I might be able to ask around, see if anyone knows her.”

Alex shoots Cora a thankful smile as the Whitelighter wraps up and helps her to her feet. She experimentally puts all of her weight on her right leg, and sighs in relief when her leg doesn’t even twinge.

“I’ll do you one better,” Nic sets his potions down on the counter and turns to his laptop, pulling up the picture MK sent him yesterday morning. “This is what she looks like.”

Cora is mid-turn when Nic speaks again, which offers Alex a good look at the way all color drains from her face when she hears their Innocent’s name.

“Her name’s Charlie, by the way. Charlie Strand.”

After a brief pause – so still, too still, almost as if the name has paralyzed her – Cora lurches forward, practically sprinting across the room to get to Nic’s laptop.

Nic shrugs when Alex shoots him a puzzled look, and they watch in silence as Cora holds out a shaky finger and hesitantly traces the pretty features of Charlie Strand.

“Charlie…” She mouths, her eyes bright with tears.

“Cora?” Alex hesitantly approaches her Whitelighter, one hand outstretched and reaching for her shoulder to comfort the woman.  

“I-” Cora stumbles backward, putting some distance between her and Alex. “I’m sorry; I need a moment,” She takes one last, longing look at the picture on Nic’s screen. “I need to be alone. Call me if you need me.”

She orbs away in plain sight, disappearing in a swirl of white and blue light. Thankfully, a quick look shows that the street is as quiet as it always is on Thursday evenings, and Cora’s departure has not drawn any unwanted attention.

That’s pretty much the least of their concerns, though.

“What the hell was that?” Alex wonders, taking a closer look at the picture of Charlie Strand. She’s pretty, beautiful even, but Cora’s reaction couldn’t have had anything to do with that. No, the way she gingerly yet gently traced those features, the way her eyes filled up with tears… “It’s almost like she recognized her.”

“Now that you mention it,” Nic comes to stand by her side and taps at the bridge of Charlie’s nose. “Hey, don’t you think her eyes look like Cora’s? Just a bit?”

Hazel eyes are common enough that Alex never really thought to make the connection, but Charlie and Cora do seem to share remarkably similar eyes. “Huh. Actually, yeah.”

Amalia slinks over from the other end of the counter and plops herself down in front of the laptop with a critical eye. “What do you think?” Alex asks her.

The cat takes one last look at the picture, then turns around and walks away.

“Well,” Nic sighs, following Amalia’s lead and getting back to work. “That’s that.”

They’ve always trusted Amalia’s instincts – she is, first and foremost, a very wise, centuries-old witch – but Alex finds her eyes lingering on Charlie’s picture, picking out similarities in the shape of their noses, the curve of their smile…

“I guess,” She finally agrees, clicking away from the picture.

Still, it wouldn’t hurt to ask Cora a few questions about her past life the next time she drops by.

.

.

.

“ _Hey, I’ve got another one for you.”_

“Hi, MK. It’s Alex,” She tucks the phone between her ear and shoulder, freeing up both hands to inspect bundles of dried rosemary and separate them into smaller batches.

“ _Oh, hey. Where’s Nic?”_

“Working on a special order,” Alex turns around to peek into the backroom, where Nic’s stirring something with his features pinched in concentration. “He’s got to stir it counter-clockwise precisely twelve times a minute for the next seven minutes, so I’d leave him to it.”

 _“O…kay,”_ MK replies dubiously, unfamiliar with the intricacies of potion preparation. To be fair, Alex herself isn’t exactly a pro at it. Nic’s the one who picked up the art from her mother while she was busy learning how to throw heavy books across the room without giving herself a headache. “ _Anyway, I tracked down another Innocent this morning. I couldn’t pin down the exact day but it was at night, and it wasn’t raining for once. I checked the weather forecast and it’ll be raining every evening until Friday, so I figure you’ve got at least four days. I’ll try to narrow it down and see if I can get an exact location for you.”_

The best thing about working with MK is that she’ll do anything to help out; anything short of actually coming along on the hunt, that is. “Okay, thanks. Can you email Nic the-”

_“Done.”_

“Right, of course,” Alex shakes her head at herself. She – and Nic – should really know better by now. “I’ll have him check his email when he’s done and we’ll get back to you if he has any questions?”

_“Yeah, that sounds okay. But there’s something you might wanna know upfront.”_

“Um, okay?” She sets aside the rosemary and gives MK her full attention, holding the phone with one hand so that she can straighten up. “What is it?”

_“Okay, first of all: your Innocent’s name is Richard Strand.”_

“Strand… as in Charlie Strand?”

 _“Exactly. Also, in my vision, he was being followed by a demon, and I don’t mean one of the usual ones masquerading as a human. This guy was full-on seven feet tall, all dark shadows and long limbs, taunting and threatening Strand,”"_ Well, that doesn’t sound good. The description matches an entry Alex vaguely remembers seeing in the Book, one she’s never paid much attention to because Greater demons rarely ever surface, and she doesn’t make a habit of fighting them when they do. _“And this guy was just… completely_ chill _, just slowly making his way down the street. No hurry in his steps, no fear in his eyes, nothing.”_

“Okay, that’s definitely weird,” Alex decides. “And what is it with these Strands and demons?”

“ _I have no idea. Hey, what kind of demon is this? Don’t think I’ve ever seen one like him.”_

“I can’t be sure-”

_“I sent Nic a sketch.”_

“Oh. Thanks,” She checks on Nic again, just to see how far along he is. He doesn’t usually mind her checking his email when it’s demon-related, but she’d rather ask him first. “Well, in that case: I’ll have to double-check to be sure but based on his height and what you said about the shadow figure alone, I’d say he’s a Greater demon.”

_“… that sounds bad.”_

“Yeah, it does,” Alex frowns. The Book is upstairs, in Nic’s apartment, and she’s sorely tempted to run up and consult it. But she can’t just leave the counter unattended. “I’ve never really had to deal with one of those. No one I know has, actually. Greater demons very rarely surface and when they do, it’s usually for a good reason.”

 _“I’ll do some more digging on this Strand guy,”_ MK offers. _“See if there’s anything about him that seems like it might attract this kind of attention.”_

“That’d be great. Thanks, MK.”

_“No problem. Gotta run; talk later.”_

One of these days, she’s going to figure out why MK’s always in such a rush to hang up. She just gets worried sometimes; people in MK’s line of work are almost always in some kind of danger, right? “Oh, okay. I’ll have Nic call-”

“ _Be careful with this one, okay? Bye.”_

“Bye,” Alex echoes, but the line’s already dead. She’d be more concerned if this wasn’t how all of their conversations end. That parting line, though… that was out of the ordinary for MK.

She stares at the phone in her hand for a while, then waits until Nic’s done with the stirring to call out to him. “Hey, Nic? Mind if I check your email? MK sent us another one.”

“Go ahead! I’ll be out in a bit.”

By the time Nic joins her, Alex has gone through everything MK sent them and is doing some light Googling on Doctor Richard Strand, professor of religion, mythology and the occult. She wonders if maybe his research has gotten him tangled up in some sort of mess that would warrant the attention of a Greater demon. At least he seems more involved in their world than the usual Innocents, which might be a possible link to his current predicament.

“Is that our guy?” Nic asks, carefully nestling the vial of freshly-brewed potion into a velvet-lined box. “Doesn’t look like there’s much about him.”

“Yeah,” Alex frowns, reading the same five lines of the short biography available on his author’s page. “This is about all there is of him online.”

She clicks on the ‘contact’ tab and finds a number for his assistant. Most professors she knows don’t have assistants, but Strand, it would appear, is a pretty well-known author in his circles – which works in her favor, actually.

“What are you up to?” Nic eyes her as she reaches for her phone and punches in the number for one Ruby Carver, TA and personal assistant to Doctor Strand.

Alex holds up a finger, and promptly leaves a message at the beep.

“Hi! This is Alex Reagan, freelance journalist. I heard about Doctor Strand’s upcoming book and I’d love to do a profile on him. You can call me back at this number. Thanks!”

“Ah,” Nic nods. “That’ll work.”

“Now we wait,” Alex sighs, pocketing her phone.

Amalia pops in through the cat door, back from her morning walk. She heads straight for the counter and easily hops up, walking up to Nic’s laptop to appease her curiosity.

Strand’s picture is still on the left side of the page, with his contact information on the right. Amalia takes one look at the picture, promptly hisses and snarls at it, then jumps off the counter and disappears into the backroom.

“Well,” Nic announces as they stare at each other. “That was weird.”

.

.

.

Two days and eleven messages later, Alex finds herself in a room with Richard Strand. 

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” She says once introductions have been made and they’re seated in Strand’s office.

“It’s no problem. Thank you for your interest,” Strand returns cordially. “So, what’s this for?”

“Oh, I’m not sure yet. I usually write the piece first, then pass it around and see who’s interested.”

“And there’s always interest?” He asks – perhaps curiously, but the wry smile and general air of amusement about Strand make it sound more like skepticism.

“Almost always,” Alex admits. “It’s a good set-up, though. I get to write about things – and people – I’m actually interested in.”

For a split second, Strand’s smile turns into something brighter. “Well, I’m flattered to be one of those people, then.”

“You _are_ a very interesting man,” She points out. “I’ll admit that I hadn’t heard of you until recently, but it was a bit frustrating – and impressive, actually – that so little is known about you. I think the only thing the Internet can agree on is that you picked an interesting line of work, given your personal beliefs – or lack thereof.”

“The atheist who gives Bible-filled lectures?” Strand… well, she _thinks_ he laughs. It might just be a particularly forceful exhale. “Yes, that does seem to be of interest.”

“So you don’t believe in any of it?” Alex asks as casually as possible, trying to be subtle. It sounds like an innocent, reasonable enough question. Besides, it probably wouldn’t even occur to a normal person that she’s trying to figure out if Strand believes in magic.

There, that little puff of an exhale again. Okay, that’s definitely a laugh. “Let’s just say I have it on good authority that most of the Bible is just a really good bedtime story. The same goes for all of these texts, in fact.”

“On good authority? Whose? If you don’t mind me asking, that is,” She quickly adds.

“Not at all,” Strand says easily. “As long you don’t mind me passing on the question. I think it’s for the best if the… source,” And here his lips twitch into something so minute she’s reluctant to call it a smirk, yet there’s a gleam in his eyes that betrays an inside joke his wry grins can only hint at, “remains unnamed.”

Well, _that_ sounds like a promising string to tug on. Unfortunately, that’s right about when a demon shimmers in and all hell breaks loose.

Alex is the first to spot the demon when he blinks into existence in the far right corner of Strand’s office, but the good doctor takes all of two seconds to note the change in her eyes and turn around to see the demon himself. At least he looks human, so she might be able to come up with some sort of explanation to fool Strand.

“Alex, please do exactly as I-”

“You!” The demon snarls at Alex. “You’re the one who killed Vinceres!”

“Doctor Strand,” Alex positions herself between the bewildered man and the demon. “Stay behind me. And back up, very slowly, toward the door.”

“What? No, Alex-”

The demon forms a ball of what appears to be lightning in his hand – definitely a Greater demon, Alex notes – and throws it at her. She redirects it to a spot between two huge bookcases, and winces when it leaves a huge mark on the wall.

Behind her, Strand stops moving and she stumbles into him just in time to hear him breathe, “You’re a witch.”

“Yup,” Alex replies flippantly, hoping to mask her panic as she assesses the situation. They’re trapped in Strand’s office with a Greater demon whom she is most definitely _not_ prepared to take on. Leaving the office is no longer an option, not with a demon hot on their heels. Something tells her this particular demon doesn’t give enough of a shit to put on an act in front of other people, and she can’t have him chasing them around the university with fireballs in both hands.

There’s really only one thing left to do. “Cora!” Alex calls, getting a firm grip on Strand’s wrist. “Out, out, out!” She instructs frantically the minute her Whitelighter arrives, and Cora immediately places a hand on her shoulder, orbing them away before the light surrounding her arrival has a chance to die down.

They end up in Nic’s apartment. “What the hell was that?” Cora demands.

“Demon,” Alex mutters, earning herself a scowl from her Whitelighter. She turns to check on Strand, who has his back to them and appears to be very, very still. His shoulders are tense, and she spies his hands curled up into fists at either side of him.

“Doctor Strand?” She speaks softly, trying to put herself in the shoes of a skeptic who’s just been attacked by a demon, saved by a witch and spirited away by what most of their Innocents assume is an angel. “Are you alright?”

“You’re a witch,” Strand finally says.

She registers a sharp inhale somewhere behind her. For a brief, horrible, tense moment, Alex thinks the demon has followed them and Cora has seen him shimmer in. But when the room remains blessedly quiet, she simply writes it off as the woman catching her breath.

“Yes,” Alex answers cautiously, bracing for the inevitable freak-out or meltdown.

Strand nods, and begins to turn around. “And you’re a White-” He stops in his tracks, and it’s like watching Coralee react to Charlie’s name all over again.

Charlie is Richard Strand’s daughter. Charlie and Coralee share the same eyes. Coralee might be Charlie’s mother. Which would mean…

“Coralee?” Strand chokes out.

Alex can’t believe she’s only now putting this together.

“Richard.”

Strand leans forward, as if drawn to Cora, but he makes no move to approach her. “You’re alive.”

“Sort of,” Cora shrugs. “Whitelighter,” She elaborates when Strand’s eyes cloud over with confusion.

“Oh,” Strand nods. “Right.” He stares silently at her then, and she stares right back. Alex wonders if she should excuse herself, and is about to do just that when Cora speaks up.

“Who did you piss off this time, Richard?” She sighs, her weary voice at odds with the tense set of her shoulders and her folded arms.

“What?” Strand seems to take offense at her words. “Who says _I_ did anything?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Cora scoffs. “Of course it wasn’t your fault. It’s never your-”

“Um,” Alex says very, very quietly, inching toward the door. “I’m just going to-” Oh, great. Now they’re both looking at her. “Gonna… let Nic know what’s going on. Yeah, I’m gonna go do that.”

Cora nods decisively and follows Alex’s lead. “Yes, that’s a good plan. We should go downstairs now.”

“I- I didn’t mean-” The scowl Cora gives her effectively silences Alex. “Alright,” She sighs, holding the door open. “After you. Are you coming, Doctor Strand?”

“Of course,” The man says without hesitation, sweeping out of the apartment and after his… wife? Probably. “Thank you,” He murmurs as he passes Alex, and she acknowledges him with a tight smile as she shuts the door behind her.

Curiously enough, MK’s voice is the first thing Alex hears as she leads the way downstairs.

_“-not gonna drive all the way to hang out with you, nerd.”_

“You live forty minutes away!” As they round the corner, Alex realizes Nic must be Skyping with MK. “Besides, I’ve got new charms for you.”

_“Seriously? Nic, I don’t need you to look out for me.”_

“Look, just because you’re not practicing doesn’t mean you’re not a witch. And Alex says she’s seen a few warlocks around town; I just want to make sure they don’t sense you.”

_“I’ll be fine. I’ve got my dagger- hey, Alex.”_

“Hi, MK,” Alex waves at the screen as she leads Cora and Strand into view. “How’s it going?”

 _“It’s going,_ ” MK shrugs. _“Hang on, is that-”_ She strains to make out Strand’s blurry features.

“Oh, yeah. This is Doctor Strand,” She turns to the newcomer and introduces her friends. “That’s MK, and this is Nic.”

Nic waves at him with a polite smile and a faint “hello”, but MK merely acknowledges the man with a nod before she addresses Nic. _“And that’s my cue. I’ll leave you guys to it.”_

“Hey, you don’t have to hang up,” Nic tells her.

“ _Um, yeah, I do. I point you guys in the right direction, that’s all. Actually dealing with the Innocents? So not my department,”_ It kind of is, but both Nic and Alex know better than to raise the same old points. _“Good luck. See you guys this weekend.”_

Nic’s face lights up. “Wait, so you _are_ coming?”

 _“I figure that’s the only way to get you off my back,_ mom _. Okay, bye.”_

She cuts the call before Nic and Alex can say goodbye.

“Okay,” Nic turns to Alex and her companions. “What’s going on here?”

“The demon showed up while I was interviewing Doctor Strand, Cora orbed us out and here we are,” Alex sums up succinctly.

“Human form or…?” Nic asks.

“Human.”

Nic nods. “Okay, did you get a good look at him? Maybe you can get MK to sketch him, and we can see if he has a human identity, anything that’ll help us figure him out. Even a name would be helpful.”

Strand speaks up before Alex can. “Thomas Warren,” He tells them. “That’s the name he goes by whenever he surfaces.”

“Oh,” Alex says. “How do you know-”

“Warren is _alive?_ ” Cora demands. “What the hell were you thinking, Richard? Why would you let him live after what he did?”

“Richard?” Nic mouths at Alex, a dozen questions written across his face.

“It’s not as simple as you think, Coralee-” Strand claims, a hint of impatience creeping into his voice. Alex slips between the two and scurries to Nic’s side.

“I think they were married,” She confides in a whisper. “And Cora is Charlie’s mother.”

“It’s not just a matter of avenging my wife-”

Nic openly gapes at Strand’s words. “Wait,” He whispers back to Alex, “we were _right_?”

“This isn’t about avenging me!” Cora snaps at him. “This is about Warren swearing he’d do anything to make your life a living hell, and our _daughter_ being a sitting duck!”

Strand crosses his arms and makes a visible effort to calm down. “He wouldn’t touch Charlie,” He states evenly.

“I don’t know what code you think Warren follows,” Cora scoffs. “But I’m pretty sure that went out of the window when he killed your _wife_. What makes you think he’ll have the decency to leave Charlie out of it?”

“She’s _mine_ ,” Strand hisses, “by blood. He knows better than to-”

“Will you just _shut up_ for a minute? Charlie was nearly attacked this week and you had no idea!” Cora yells. “If Alex hadn’t been there to-”

“Charlie was attacked?” Strand asks, voice barely above a whisper as the color drains from his face.

“ _Yes_ ,” Cora snarls. “So don’t tell me that son of a bitch isn’t going to-”

Alex doesn’t know which surprises her more: Cora’s harsh language, or the way Strand vanishes from sight without a single word.

“Wait,” Her eyes flit from the spot Strand had been occupying five seconds ago to a clearly infuriated Cora. “Did he just-”

“Run away like a sulky teenager?” Cora interrupts her irritably. “Yes.”

“No,” Alex blinks. “Not that – well, okay, that too – but… did he just _shimmer_?”

“Like a _demon_?” Nic adds.

Cora eyes the both of them in silence for a moment before the tension drains from her shoulders. “Oh,” She realizes. “You didn’t know.”

“So he _is_ -?” Nic can’t quite get the word past his throat.

“A demon,” Cora supplies. “Yes. He’s a demon.”

Amalia struts by then, and her eyes do a remarkably good job at conveying a kind of smugness that can only mean  _I told you so._

.

.

.

Cora( _lee_?) leaves shortly after, understandably shaken by the unexpected encounter with her husband. Nic and Alex find themselves pretty out of it for the rest of the day as well, trying to figure out why MK would have a vision of two demons and how the hell they’re supposed to protect a man who can probably protect himself. 

They call it a day around sunset and agree to regroup tomorrow. Alex tells Nic good night and calls out for Amalia before she leaves. The cat appears from one of the aisles and makes her way over to Alex.

“Hey, are you coming back with me today?”

Amalia lifts one shoulder in an entirely human gesture, indicating that she has no preference on the matter.

“Okay, why don’t you stay with Nic then? Keep an eye on him for me, hmm?” Alex asks, lightly scratching the cat’s chin as a goodbye. “See you tomorrow,” She says, laughing when Amalia rubs herself up against her leg before leaving to find Nic.

As she heads for her car, Alex has every intention of driving straight home and unwinding after a long day. As she drives down the street and waves back at a few familiar faces, she tries to recall what she has in her fridge and how much of it is still edible. As the sun finally dips out of sight and leaves the streets lit only by insufficient lighting, she thinks of her bed and the book she’s only a few chapters in.

Yes, Alex has every intention of getting herself home ASAP and calling it a day – until she happens to glance at the abandoned park on her left and catches sight of a shadow. A seven-foot-tall, ridiculously long-limbed shadow.

“ _Shit_ ,” Alex hisses, keeping one eye on the shadow as she pulls to a stop on the opposite side of the road and tries to come up with a plan. She has no potions or spells, but she can’t just ignore the demon. Shadowy though he may look, he must have a physical form, right? As long as he’s tangible, she can throw things at him. And she can always improvise a spell if worst comes to worst.

“Okay,” She kills the engine and takes a deep breath as she releases her seatbelt. “I can do this. I’m doing this.” With a determined nod, she opens her door and promptly shrieks when she finds herself face-to-face with the demon.

Her first instinct is to hurl him as far away as possible, and she watches as the unintentional force behind her attack sends the demon flying across the street.

“Well,” The demon’s voice is vaguely familiar, but it’s so distorted by the deep rumble most demon voices carry that it takes her a moment to place it. “That answers it, then. You’re definitely telekinetic.”

“Doctor Strand?” Alex realizes with a gasp, hurrying across the street.

The demon – Strand – nods and allows his form to morph into the human one she’s more familiar with. “Good evening, Miss Reagan.”

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry!” She winces, helping Strand to his feet. “It’s just- you look exactly like Thomas Warren’s demon form and I-”

“Alex, calm down,” Strand tells her with a smile. “It’s alright. No harm done, see? Besides, you had good reason to react the way you did. I shouldn’t have scared you like that.”

She wasn’t _scared_ , just a tiny bit startled, but that’s not important right now. “What were you doing, anyway? Do you make a habit of wandering around the park at night in your demon form?”

“Hardly,” Strand scoffs. “I haven’t done this in years, actually.” He pauses for a beat before offering her an explanation: “I thought I’d try to lure Warren out. Coralee was right – I should never have given him a chance to attack Charlie.”

“That wasn’t-” Alex starts, only to remember what Warren had said to her earlier in the day: _you’re the one who killed Vinceres_. He’d seemed pretty pissed at her for it, _and_ he’d addressed the demon by name. “Warren wasn’t the one who planned to attack Charlie,” She tells Strand, “but I think he was behind it.”

“He was probably trying to pass along a message,” Strand mutters to himself. “Thank you,” He says to Alex with a small smile, “for keeping my daughter safe.”

“It’s kinda what I do,” Alex shrugs. She moves the conversation along before Strand can thank her once more – or worse, insist on some way to repay the favor so that he won’t be in a witch’s debt. “So, you don’t use your natural form that often?”

Strand nods and places a hand on the small of her back, leading her across the street to her car. “I’ve been trying to live without that part of me. Practice, in case I choose to give up my immortality.”

“You want to be human?”

“I’ve been thinking about it,” He admits. “Probably would’ve gone through with it, if not…”

“If not?” Alex prompts.

For a moment, it almost looks like Strand might confide in her. But then he shakes his head, and opens her door for her. “It’s nothing. I shouldn’t keep you; I’ve already wasted enough of your time-” The small smile playing on his lips suddenly turns into a thin line as his jaw tenses and his eyes focus on a point beyond her shoulder.

“Doctor Strand?”

The only reply she gets is a hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her behind him. The fingers reaching for her are human but by the time they’ve encircled her wrist, all Alex sees is five thin, long shadows curled around her skin. And when she looks up, she sees double.

Strand stands between her and Thomas Warren, who’s taken on a form nearly identical to Strand’s. The distance between them might have warped her perception but from where she’s standing, it looks like Strand might be a good four or five inches taller than Warren. The darkness interferes with her vision, but Warren appears to be a shade or two lighter than Strand.

With the exception of those two small details, the demons are almost impossible to tell apart.

“Get out of here,” Strand orders quietly.

“What? No. This is my job. I’m supposed to-”

With a growl, Strand lets go of her hand and charges at Warren, sending the both of them skidding down the street and away from Alex. Well, that’s new - _if you won’t leave, then I will._

Her first instinct is to run after them, so Alex goes with her second instinct: take a deep breath, assess the situation and try to come up with a plan that doesn’t include her being a distraction or hindrance to Strand. Okay, so she’s still potion-less, but a spell – that, she can do. Given that Warren is a Greater demon and she’s just one witch, it might not hold him for good, but it’ll certainly work as a temporary fix-it. It’s times like these that she envies covens and their shared power. It’s also times like these that she envies poets, because freestyling spells does _not_ come easily to her. _Why_ do they have to rhyme, anyway? Who decided that?

_Demon bent on revenge,_

_Coralee’s death I will now avenge._

The lines bring a grimace to her face, but they’ll work. Two down, two more to go. She can’t vanquish him, not on her own, so her best bet here is to banish him and hope he’ll stay banished.

_With this spell I send you away-_

Away, day, stray, hay, okay, stay.

_With this spell I send you away,_

_Back to hell and there you’ll stay._

Not her best work, but it’ll do the trick for now. “Okay,” Alex mutters, breaking into a run. Strand and Warren have vanished from sight, and she has to pause for a minute when she comes to an intersection until a stray fireball points her in the right direction.

They’re on the move though, and she can’t hope to keep up with two brawling demons as they take turns hurling each other a few feet away at a time and rolling down the streets in a tangle of long limbs and sharp teeth.

When she finally turns a corner and catches up to them, her heart stops.

One demon stands victorious, the other is motionless at his opponent’s feet. It’s impossible to tell who’s who, and Alex remains wary even when the victor’s features fade into Strand’s. Greater demons are known for their shape-shifting abilities… she thinks. Some of them, at least.

“Alex? Alex, it’s alright now,” Strand – or is it? – tells her, approaching her with both hands held up and deliberately slow steps.

“How do I know it’s you?” She blurts out, carefully backing up to reclaim some distance between them.

Strand comes to a halt immediately, his eyes clouding over with confusion for all of five seconds before he realizes what she’s asking. They’ve only just met today so he doesn’t have much to work with, but- “I made a pun. Earlier, when you interviewed me. I said the _Source_ should remain unnamed.”

Alex blinks, and then breaks into laughter. “I _knew_ it!” She exclaims. “I knew I was missing something!”

“Yes, well,” Strand shrugs, taking her reaction as permission to walk up to her. “I have to amuse myself somehow.” He hesitantly places a hand on her shoulder to gain her attention. “Are you alright?”

She sobers up immediately. “ _Me?_ You’re the one who just-” She waves at Thomas Warren’s crumpled body. “Are you okay? Did he-”

“Not a scratch,” Strand assures her. “You should see the other guy,” He adds with a grin.

She hasn’t known Strand long enough to have his personality pegged, but the way his grin immediately falters and his eyes avoid hers make her wonder if this kind of behavior is out of the norm for him.

“I _am_ looking at the other guy,” Alex mutters, “and trying to figure out what we should do with him.”

“Oh,” Strand turns to regard his fallen opponent. “Right. I’ll take care of this,” He tells her, and that’s all the warning she gets before he sets fire to the body.

This is new; the potions usually take care of the body, so she’s never had to deal with something like this. Alex carefully keeps her eyes fixed on Strand, studying his face in profile as she tries to block out the sound of crackling flames and the smell of burning flesh.

She must’ve spaced out, because the next thing she hears is Strand quietly telling her, “You can look now,” and nodding at the spot the body had been in. Her eyes follow his, and she finds nothing but a pile of grey ashes the wind is slowly chipping away at.

“Come on,” Strand says once the last of the ashes have blown away. “I’ll walk you back to your car.”

And it’s probably her exhaustion showing after a long, stressful day, but as they walk away, all Alex can think is  _thank God I didn’t have to use that shitty spell in front of Doctor Strand._

.

.

.

Cora drops by on Saturday morning, after Alex has successfully ordered Nic to take the day off and hang out with a visiting MK. 

“Hey,” Alex greets her Whitelighter with a smile, setting aside the new box of quartzes she’d been sorting through. “You’ve been MIA for a while.”

“Did I worry you? I’m sorry,” Cora says. “I needed a bit of time to just… think. And talk to Richard.”

Alex makes her way to the old bench tucked away in a corner and motions for Cora to join her. “It’s okay; anyone would’ve needed some time off after the week you’ve had. Did you guys work things out?”

“Work things out?” Cora echoes, her brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you- oh,” She realizes, then shakes her head at Alex. “It’s not like that anymore, Alex. It’s been twenty years; we’ve both moved on.”

“Oh.”

Cora smiles, something soft and just the slightest bit… not sad, exactly. Wistful, maybe, or nostalgic. “I don’t think we could work _that_ out even if we wanted to, and God knows I _don’t_ want to. No, the only remaining tie between Richard and me is Charlie. That’s actually why I’m here,” Cora tells her.

“Is Charlie okay?” Alex asks immediately.

“I… think so,” Cora frowns. “I hate not knowing for sure. That’s why Richard and I have come to a decision – I think… I think I’m going to try to approach Charlie. If she already knows about all of this, I might not need to hide from her.”

“Wait,” Alex says. “Why would she know about this?”

“Well, I did say _if_ ,” Cora reminds her. “But there’s a pretty good chance that Charlie knows _something_ about this world; she is half-demon, after all. It’s dormant, of course, but she must know by now that there’s something different about her.”

That should _not_ be as big of a shock as it is. With Strand as her father, _of course_ Charlie would be half-demon. It just hadn’t occurred to Alex, that’s all.

Cora turns to her with an expectant look on her face. “The Elders won’t like this,” Alex feels obligated to warn her.

“They never do,” Cora sighs. “I have to try, though. You understand, don’t you?”

Alex seeks out a hand and squeezes it with her own. “Of course. She’s your daughter, Cora. If she _does_ know about all of this, then it’s pointless to keep you two separated. Cruel, even.”

“Let’s hope the Elders see it that way,” Cora offers her a strained smile and a squeeze of her own. “I should get going,” She says after a while, getting to her feet. “You’ll be alright without me?”

“Don’t worry,” Alex assures her as they head for Cora’s corner. “I promise to be careful.”

“And call me _anytime_ you need me, okay?” Cora insists. “I’ll be here for you no matter what.”

“I know,” She says, and they exchange quick goodbyes before Cora orbs away, leaving Alex alone once more.

Not for long, though.

A bell tinkles as someone enters through the front door, and Alex quickly makes her way to the main area of the shop to attend to the customer.

“Hello, how may I- Doctor Strand?”

To call his visit _unexpected_ would be an understatement. For some reason, Alex had resigned herself to never seeing Strand again. Seeing him now is nothing short of a surprise.

“Good morning, Alex,” Strand offers her a smile. “How have you been?” 

“Well, thank you,” She responds automatically, meeting him halfway. “You?”

“Surprisingly okay,” He shrugs, “for someone who found out his ex-wife is still alive, killed one of his oldest friends,  _and_ landed himself on the Source’s bad side in the same week.”

“Wait, what was that last one?” Alex asks as her blood runs cold.

Strand seems remarkably calm about the whole thing. “Warren was a prized member of the Source’s inner circle. I expect there will be repercussions for his death.”

She’s almost scared to ask. “What sort of repercussions?”

“There’s no telling,” He says. “If it were anyone else, he’d probably have sent a dozen bounty hunters after them by now.”

“If it were anyone else?”

“Yes,” Strand tells her, “if it were anyone else. But it’s me, so there’s no telling how bad it might or might not be.”

“Why is it different with you?” Alex tilts her heads questioningly. “Because you and the Source go way back?”

Strand huffs his little half-laugh; it’s grown on her really quickly, and she finds the sound of it comforting, in a way. “Something like that, yes. He’s always been a little… I don’t know. Demons prize loyalty above all else; I used to think he favored me because I’d been by his side the longest. But there were these rumors, that he might be my fa-”

“Never mind,” Strand says, cutting himself off quite abruptly. “Point is, the Source will not be happy about this.”

“Point taken,” Alex says. “It’s okay; we’ll be prepared for anything he decides to throw at us, alright?”

Strand stares at her in silence for what feels like an eternity. “We?” He finally asks.

She blinks at him. “Yeah, we. This is my city, Doctor Stra-”

“Richard,” He insists.

“Okay, then. This is my city, Richard, and there’s no way I’ll just stand by and let the Source wreak havoc on it _or_ let you bear the brunt of it,” Alex vows.

“Alex, this isn’t a fight you want to get involved in,” Strand warns her.

He’s probably right. There’s a reason she’s always gone out of her way to avoid Greater demons. But something in her rebels against the very idea of leaving him to fight this battle on her own. She’ll chalk it up to her hero complex, or maybe she feels like she owes it to Cora to keep the father of her daughter safe. Maybe it’s because she feels like Strand could be a good friend, and she’s always willing to stand up for her friends.

_I’m doing this._

“You obviously don’t know me that well,” Alex smirks. “I’m 5’3’ and always ready to fight.”

Strand laughs. “Exactly the kind of person I need on my side,” He says teasingly.

“Then that’s exactly where I’ll be.”

They shake on it, and she invites Strand to join her for lunch.

Honestly, Alex should’ve seen this coming. She already has a guardian-angel-slash-mother-hen, a cinnamon roll, a hacker – sorry, information specialist – and a cursed black-cat-slash-witch in her life. It was really only a matter of time before she added a reformed demon to that group.

At the very least, watching Strand try to win Amalia over should be fun.


End file.
